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yandere-daydreams · 3 months

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Title: Dragon On The Tower Roof.

Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 4.2k.

TW: Fantasy AU, Mentions of Blood/Bruising, Mentions of Injury to Reader, Implied (Consensual) Sex, Possessive Behavior, and Manipulation.

Malleus met you at the base of his tower.

With a single movement of his wings, he descended from his perch and landed in front of you – placing himself between you and the stone behemoth. Had you been a more imposing figure, a knight or a prince or the general of some distant army, he would’ve cut you down the moment you entered his valley, but your only armor was a thin rucksack tunic and your only weapon was a rusted sword – the tip of its chipped blade currently planted in the ground as you struggled to keep yourself on your feet. He could smell blood on you, although he couldn’t be sure if its source was the jagged, poorly bandaged wound on your calf or the dark stains painting your humble clothes. You were clearly not a knight, much less a prince, and if you were a general, your army had abandoned you long ago. Altogether, you were not the most intimidating nuisance he had ever had to dismiss. He might’ve been grateful, had you not been a nuisance at all.

In the past, his visage alone had been enough to make even the bravest adventure abandon their quest, but your weary eyes only glazed over his black-scaled wings, his spiraling horns, the slit pupils of his unnaturally green eyes. You acknowledged him with a slight nod, putting more of your weight on your makeshift aid. “I believe I’m here to slay you, dragon.”

His greeting, likewise, came in the form of a bowed head, a narrowed gaze. “And to rescue the prince, I assume.”

You shrugged, the gesture alone threatening to cost you your balance. “I’m sure they’d prefer if I didn’t. I think they’ve got someone else for that – a lord, or maybe a king. Someone more befitting than a filthy criminal, surely.”

At that, Malleus felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips. Novelty was rare, this far into his everlasting life, and he could not say he’d ever had a prisoner sent after his head. “What sort of crime gets you sent to the lair of a monster?”

You brightened at the question. “Thievery,” you answered, pride overshadowing your exhaustion. “I could either face you or let them cut off my hands and, well, I find those to be quite essential to my burgeoning career.”

This time, you earned an airy laugh, a reflexive flick of his tail. He took another moment to evaluate you before speaking. “You are tired, thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but you answered regardless. “It was a long journey. You aren’t an easy monster to reach.”

“And injured, presumably by the fangs of some great beast of legend.”

“Right again.” You paused, then added, “If there are any legends about wolves, I mean.”

“And hungry.” Your smile fell. When you failed to respond, he went on. “May I invite you to share a meal with me before our battle?”

He watched as you swallowed, as you straightened. Your sword was pulled from the ground and allowed to hang limply at your side as you stared up at him with such a hopeful expression – his heart, had it not been so terribly calloused, might’ve broken at the sight alone. “Well,” you started, your humor gone in exchange for pure, unabashed desperation. “I suppose I can’t refuse such a kindly offered invitation.”

With no further conversation, he stepped to the side, raising his staff to the tower. After only a moment, the endless cobblestone pulled away to reveal a simple, wooded door – already open and awaiting his entry. Smiling, he motioned for you to follow him, and without protest, you obeyed.

You ate, to put it politely, like a starving animal.

There’d been an attempt at decency when you first sat down at the opposing head of his banquet table, a gallant effort to make use of the flatware arranged into neat, never-ending lines on either side of your plate, but what little energy you had for such pleasantries was depleted quickly as your attention was dedicated entirely to the whims of your empty stomach. Countless other dishes decorated the table – ranging from fine delicacies fit for the pallets of kings to common staples even the lowest of peasantry would’ve been familiar with, but Malleus was content to nurse a goblet of dark, herbed wine as he watched you bask in the feast.

Only after you’d gotten your fill did you seem to remember that you had company, your expression taking on a sheepish note. “This is what they brought me to trial for. Trespassing, I mean,” you began, and Malleus hummed in acknowledgement. “It was a baron’s manor – not quite a castle, but close to it. I heard he had the most beautiful gardens on this continent, and at the time, it seemed unreasonable to have to wait for an invitation just to take a look.”

“I thought you were a thief?”

“You must have the wrong person. I’ve been many things, but never a thief.” You leaned back in your chair. “I’m afraid I’ve always been too tender-hearted for that kind of thing. I could never stand to insult my hosts.”

“Such a considerate guest I have,” he said, cocking his head to the side. “I suppose I won’t have to worry about being robbed blind if I let you stay the night, then.”

You shook your head, feigning ego. “I would never, dear dragon. Your reclusive prince, on the other hand—”

Whatever you might’ve gone on to say was swiftly replaced with a sudden gasp as every torch within sight burst into a pillar of vicious emerald flame, casting the dining room in a blinding, sickly green before dying out just as abruptly as it’d erupted. Malleus let out an exasperated breath, bringing a hand to his temples. “My apologies. My patience has grown—” He cast a wayward glance toward the ash now seared into the stone walls, the ceiling. “—thin, over my time here.”

You allowed a beat to pass by in silence, then another. “Your prince,” you said, finally. “Is he important to you?”

“I can think of nothing I value more.” The answer came easily, even if the intensity of his sentiment surprised him. “An old friend asked me to ensure his safety. I’ve performed my role dutifully ever since.” The taste of blood rose into the back of his throat, but he drowned it out with another long sip from his goblet. “They used to send entire armies to reclaim him, then lone knights, then the occasional adventurer. You might be the first human to come seeking my head in two or three decades.”

Your smile took on a shy lilt, your eyes drifting to the table. “I wasn’t really supposed to come after you, either. Most people just take it as an exile, but they gave me a sword, and…” It was your turn to laugh, now, to be surprised with yourself. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I thought, even if I don’t get to rescue any princes, it could be nice to see how much of the fairy tale is true.”

“And you’re satisfied with what you’ve found?”

“Not entirely,” you admitted. “But I’m glad I met you, dear dragon.”

After some hesitation, he pushed himself to his feet and closed the distance between you. You stiffened, your gaze flitting blatantly toward the sole exit, but you didn’t attempt to flee as he pulled the closest seat in front of you and fell into it. “May I see your leg?”

You were far more than reluctant, but complied. The material of your travel weary trousers was pulled above your knee, the strips of fabric you’d attempted to fashion into bandages cut away with his own pitch-black talons. The wound was worse than he’d assumed, more severe than he assumed. Ragged skin stretched from your knee to your ankle, harsh puncture marks littering what little flesh was still in-tact. The stress of your journey had prevented the brunt of the damage from healing, and even without the use of his advanced senses, he would’ve been able to feel the heat radiating off of your skin, the first signs of infection beginning to set in. You were lucky you’d made it to his tower before the fever spread. His territory was cruel to the most resilient of creatures, and you seemed far from resilient.

“I have a salve in my collection that should aid in your recovery. That, paired with a few days of bed rest, should have you on your feet again in a week’s time.” Not a lie, but not far from one, either. He’d mended worse with a snap of his fingers, but there was no reason you should have to be burdened with such knowledge. “If you can find it within yourself to share a roof with a monster and delay our duel yet again, I can provide room and board while you recover.”

Your laugh was bright and strained. “You’re terribly kind to someone who came here to take your life.”

“And you’re very trusting of a creature who could easily end yours.” He let his pointed claws scrape over your bare skin, prolonging his evaluation. “Think of it as a show of my gratitude. My time here is well-spent, but tends to pass slowly. Visitors, whether benevolent or malicious, help to color my days.”

“Then I will have to be the most colorful visitor you’ve ever had,” you chimed, your grin renewed with fresh vigor. Clearly, you were not the type of mortal who could go long without a task. “I’ll make you wait on me hand and foot and bend to my every whim, until the thought of encountering another human being makes you sick. When I’m done, there might even be a dragon in this tower worth slaying.”

His only response was a steady nod, a low hum. He stood and, in the same motion, hooked one arm under the bend of your knees and another around your waist, lifting you into the air before you had the chance to so much as think to pull away. Instinctually, you attempted to re-balance yourself against him, and Malleus couldn’t help himself – laughing as he pulled you to his chest. “If I am to dote on you to the point of sickness, then let me start now. You’re in no state to walk on your own.”

You opened your mouth as if to complain, but anything you might’ve said was deemed too unimportant to warrant the effort. Your smile softened, your eyes falling shut as you rested your head against his shoulder. You lingered there, quiet and content, as he carried you through the halls of what would come to be your home.

Your prescribed period of bed rest came and went. Your bruises healed, then your leg (although you still tended to limp during particularly heavy rainstorms), and your exhaustion was replaced by a buzzing sort of restlessness. He never asked you to leave, and after some time, you seemed to stop expecting him to. You spoke rarely of your past (aside from the ever-changing series of events that led you to his tower, of course) and never of your future. When Malleus was in one of his more indulgent moods, he allowed himself to believe that, when he did catch you looking in his direction with such a glimmering worry in your eyes, you weren’t afraid of him, but of the possibility that he might send you away.

Despite your claims of spoiled houseguests and encumbered hosts, he was only driven to near-madness once while sharing your company. It’d been shortly after you instated yourself as a resident of his tower, rather than a fleeting visitor, and took to exploring your new dwelling without reservation. It’d been his own fault, really. He’d forgotten to warn you away from the upper wing, to resketch the protective runes he’d long-since allowed to fade, but such rationality had escaped him as he stood in the doorway, his mind empty and his eyes trained on your kneeling figure. He watched, paralyzed, as you raised a hand, reaching towards the marble slab, and then he was behind you – the points of his talons grazing the skin of your throat before he managed to restrain himself, curling his fist around the collar of your shirt, instead. Without warning, he hauled you off your feet, ignoring the half-choked shriek you let out in response.

His eyes fell to Silver, searching for any signs of harm, of disruption. Of course, Silver was unchanged. His colorless hair remained fanned over his velvet-cushioned pillow, the silk sheets and hand-stitched quilts still folded neatly at the foot of his bed – waiting to be put to use when the weather turned in autumn. Malleus took a moment to observe the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the gentle movement behind his closed eyes, before letting out a breath of relief and turning to you. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter this chamber.”

“Sorry, I— I was just looking around, and I saw the flowers on the door—” Silver’s own craftsmanship, preserved from the ravages of time by Malleus’ spell work. He’d painted them as soon as he was old enough to hold a brush, along with matching murals on his bedroom walls that hadn’t survived the passing ages. “—I got curious, that’s all. Is this the prince I was sent after?”

Malleus set his jaw, straightening his hunched posture. “…it is,” he answered, eventually. He let go of your collar and let you stumble onto your feet. “His name is Silver. I never knew him by any titles.”

Malleus’ gaze shifted to you, but your eyes remained fixed on Silver. “He’s beautiful.”

Despite himself, he felt the edge of his lips turn downward. He rested a hand on your shoulder, and you seemed to recover from your daze, turning to face him with a hopeful smile. “Do you know when he’s going to wake up?”

Malleus felt a coil of heat form in the back of the throat. The taste of ash laid heavy over his tongue, but he swallowed back his guilt and forced himself to respond. “In another hundred years, perhaps,” he mused, his tone melodic and detached. “There’s no known cure for a curse like his.”

A phantom of disappointment flickered across your expression, but it was suppressed quickly. Rather, you turned your attention outward – to the heavy, woven curtains draped over each crystalline window. “Will you help me let in some light? I hate to insult your taste, but it’s terribly depressing in here, and—” You brightened, taking him by the sleeve and tugging gingerly. “We don’t want his highness to have any nightmares, do we?”

With some reluctance, Malleus nodded. “Light, but nothing else.” When you failed to acknowledge him, he caught you by the wrist, squeezing with just enough pressure for your smile to falter. “Light, but nothing else. Do you understand?”

Your eyes darted back to Silver, but only for a moment. He was thankful for that – for your restraint. A second longer, and his true nature might’ve overshadowed his better judgement. “Of course, dear dragon. Nothing else.”

He inhaled sharply, then let go of you altogether.

It was a choice that, in the approaching months, he would only come to regret.

“This is what they banished me for, you know.”

“This?”

“Yes, this exactly.” You propped your chin on his chest, positioning yourself to more easily card your fingers through his hair. He let his eyes fall shut, basking in the warmth of your affection, of your bare skin pressed into his. Your clothes laid discarded on the grass around you, one of his wings bent and raised to shield you from the harsh light of the setting sun. He would have to get you back to the tower, soon. He’d always been indifferent to the deadly chill of night, but you – in your precious, delicate mortality – were not so durable. “Actually, not quite – I don’t think I ever made it to this part. It was the first time I’d ever attended a royal ball, and I happened to dance with a young lady so breath-taking, I couldn’t help but drop to one knee and dedicate my heart to her the moment our hands touched.” You sighed, feigning remorse. “Little did I know that she was the princess that ball was being thrown for, and so moved by my passion, she refused to let me out of her embrace until I agreed to marry her. Of course, her father – the king, as the fathers of princesses tend to be – couldn’t have that. It’s a shame, really. We would’ve made a gorgeous couple.”

Malleus pursed his lips, fighting back a smile. “And what does that make me? The next scorned lover of a silver-tongued rouge?”

“Oh, no. If you asked me to marry you,” You propped yourself up, pressing a kiss into the curve of his jaw. “There’d be nothing in the world that could stop me, dear dragon.”

Your hand fell to his cheek, and wistfully, you lulled him into a kiss – shallow but lingering, punctuated with a playful nip at his bottom lip. You pulled back with a smile, another quick peck to his cheek. You moved to say something, but he interrupted you, as mournful as he was to cut off such a precious moment so callously. “I found your wildflowers.”

Immediately, your expression fell. “I made sure not to—”

“I know, beloved, I know.” You knew better than to lay a hand on Silver. Your small bouquet had been left on the corner of his bed, another additional chain of asters and lavender braided into one of the longer strands of his waist-length hair. As much as he wished he could say he was only concerned for Silver’s well-being, it wouldn’t have been the truth. Something else, something darker, had accompanied the discovery – something it would be better for you to stay ignorant of. “We’ve talked about this. Silver is vulnerable, in his current condition. Even the simplest luxury is an unspeakable risk.”

Your shoulders dropped, your body going slack against his. You bowed your head, burying your face in the dip of his shoulder, and despite his frustration with you, he didn’t push you away. “I’m sorry. It just feels so cruel to let him suffer alone.”

“He’s never been alone.” His tone was more curt than he’d meant it to be. “He’s always had me.”

“I know, but—” He expected you to raise your hair, to flash him that brilliant grin. Instead, you only settled against him, speaking softly into the crook of his neck. “He just seems so sad.”

Malleus took a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut.

Then, before he could let himself think better of it, he wrapped an arm around your waist. In one fluid motion, he turned you over – leaving you on your back, one of his knees planted on either side of your waist, your form tucked safely underneath his. His kiss was less gentle than your own – that deep, aching sort of hunger overwhelming his cautiousness as his tongue raked over yours, as he groaned unabashedly into your mouth. You returned his affection emphatically; your fingers soon knotted in his hair, your eager touch preventing so much as the thought of distance between your body and his. Because there never would be distance between you and him. Because there was no reason you should ever have to be taken away from him.

Hours later, when the last traces of light had faded and the stars were painted in swirling patterns across the sky, he would carry you back to his tower – unconscious and pliable in his arms. That would be the first night you spent in his bed, and as he laid there with you, he couldn’t help but imagine how wonderful it would be if you never left.

The runes carved into Silver’s door were redrawn, Malleus’ enchantments refreshed, and your bittersweet sympathy slowly rotted into a distinctly bland melancholy. You didn’t speak of him (Malleus could only wonder how you ever managed to speak of anyone when so many of his marks so often decorated your skin), but he noticed new scratches around the well-rusted lock on Silver’s door, caught you braiding chains of daisies and crowns of marigolds with no intended recipient in mind, and at night, you tended to slip out of his hold and wander. Sometimes, he waited for you, lying awake as you hunted for whatever solace there was to find in the empty halls of an ancient tower. Most nights, tonight, he chased after you.

He found you in a window near the tower’s highest room, laid across the wooden sill, your back propped against the empty frame. He didn’t ask to join you – wordlessly lowering himself to the floor at your feet. As if by reflex, your hand fell to his horns, your thumb tracing over a particular ridge near the base as you broke the quiet. “Have ever told you why I’m here, dear dragon?”

Countless times, but he still played along. “Who has my heart been stolen by today, beloved?”

“A murderer,” you said, hollowly. “And not a particularly clever one, at that.”

He waited for you to go on, to spin some elaborate tale of love and loss and betrayal and poor humor, but you only lapsed back into silence, your gaze turning back to the pitch-black valley. He watched your vacant expression for a moment, then another before letting his eyes fall shut and resting his cheek against your thigh.

Malleus had expected there to be more anger than this.

You were in a similar position to one you’d taken the first time you stumbled into Silver’s chambers – kneeling beside his marble bed, your ever-weary eyes fixed on the unknowing object of your adoration. The only difference was that, today, Silver’s hand was raised to your lips, now slightly parted in shock. He didn’t have to guess at the source of your astonishment. In front of you, Silver was sitting up. His posture was unsteady, his eyes barely open, but the obvious was undeniable.

He was awake.

To think, there was something of merit to Lilia’s stories of true love after all.

Rather than anger, rage, pure and undiluted fury, an odd sort of calm settled over his blank mind as you snapped in his direction. Your astonishment turned to horror in an instant. “Malleus, I didn’t— I was only trying to—”

He put you out of your mercy quickly. He raised his staff and, propelled by some unseen force, you were torn away from Silver’s bedside and thrown against the nearest walls – the force of the collision far from fatal, but enough to leave you limp and unconscious. With your safety ensured, he stepped forward, approaching Silver. He was awake, but only just. So many decades of uninterrupted sleep would not be so willing to release him from their taloned clutches without a struggle, and there was a certain dream-like lull to the way his eyes skirted over the limited scenery before settling on Malleus, his features immediately softening in relief. “Malleus?”

“I’m here.” Malleus allowed himself a small smile before bringing the end of his staff to Silver’s forehead. “You can rest, brother.”

There was just enough time for the edges of Silver’s lips to turn downward before he collapsed back onto the marble slab. Malleus would arrange him later on. For now, his attention turned to you.

He gathered your crumpled form in his arms and carried you through the halls of his lonely tower, before stepping into the clear air and fresh heat of the valley. He laid you in the tall grass and, after taking a moment to appreciate your peaceful expression, brought a hand to your face, cupping your cheek tenderly. The spell came to him instinctually, but he took his time, mourning the loss of your time together with each mumbled word. That was a silver-lining of immortality, though. Infinite time allowed for infinite repetition, and he couldn’t imagine giving up the opportunity to fall in love with you again.

When he was done, your eyes fluttered open, a smile quickly finding its way to your lips. “Hello, dragon.” You gazed darted to either side nervously, your mind struggling to catch up with your clever tongue. “I would love to introduce myself, but it’s the funniest thing – I can’t seem to remember what I’m doing here.”

He bit back a smile. You tried to force yourself into a more dignified position, but barely managed to get an arm underneath you before pausing, wincing, reaching for the back of your head and coming away with blood smeared across your fingertips. Malleus did what he could to hide his delight.

“You’re a thief. You injured yourself attempting to scale my tower. It was an impressive effort, but tragically unnecessary.”

This time, he couldn’t hide the wide, simpering grin that came to rest across his lips.

“I was always going to invite you inside.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oneshot #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #yandere twst #twst imagines #malleus x reader #yandere malleus #yanderecore #yancore

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beanytuesday · 1 month

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GUE CHAPTER 4: LIVING DEAD

[But first: a brief message from the creator, which would have appeared BEFORE the comic, if I didn't just barely slide in under tumblrs 30 image limit]

Hello Everyone,

I was in the process of inking this comic when I suffered my debilitating hand injury, which set me back nearly a year. Even before I injured myself, I never intended for GUE 4 to take this long— and so in the interest of expediting it’s release, I took some shortcuts in the inking process through the use of generative AI.

Hah! Just kidding. But now it sounds less bad to say that I did save time by using modified pencilwork in place of inks, and the result is an end product that is decidedly a little rough.

I promise, nobody is upset about this as much as I am; I really wanted to present everyone with a perfect end product. But creative stuff like this has a half-life, and as much as I am proud of my work on GUE 4, I am ready to move on and get to work on other projects. (Maybe even… GUE 5? )

If it makes you feel better, just pretend that I’m the Thief And The Cobbler guy, and that GUE 4 is merely an unfinished masterwork pieced together after my untimely death at the hands of Disney gestapo. (Or whatever actually happened to him-- It’s funnier if I don’t look it up. Haha. Parody. Don’t sue me Disney)

And please, don’t freak out when you get to page 5. I started using a new drafting method while working on this comic, and I promise the art gets cleaner quickly. In fact, I think an adapted version of the rough inking method I used here can actually be used to in the future for faster turnaround, without sacrificing quality. Many exciting adventures await.

My deepest thanks for your support. Please enjoy GUE part 4.

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joy-laufeyson · 11 months

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Roronoa Zoro fics recommendations

(Reader inserts) Recommendations of my favorite headcanons/imagines/fics/scenarios (I don’t own any)

・・・・・・

nsfw / if Zoro drank an aphrodisiac (part 1)

nsfw fluff / aftercare (part 2)

angst fluff / just a bit jealous

fluff / onigiris

fluff nsfw / flower field date

fluff / laundry day

fluff / banana thief

fluff / attention

fluff nsfw / the waiting game

fluff / a midnight encounter

fluff / weight comfort

sfw / summer rain

angst fluff / lullaby

fluff / alone

fluff / acts of intimacy

fluff / nuzzling up his partner’s soft tummy

fluff / as the sun sets

angst fluff / forgiveness is a fickle thing

angst fluff / one of those days

angst nsfw / stitches

angst / earrings

sfw / imagine

sfw / habits

sfw / childs play

fluff / getting up late

fluff / let me help you fall asleep

fluff nsfw / receiving

fluff / the man

fluff / confession

fluff / drunk in love

fluff / lost

fluff / softness

fluff / babysitters

sfw / lashes

angst fluff / scars

fluff / sweet dreams

fluff / oposites

fluff / better late than never

sfw / the one that (almost) got away

fluff / laying your head on his chest

angst fluff / reaction to his crush getting injured

fluf / "kiss me"

fluff / "i’ve always thought you were th’prettiest person around”

fluff / "what are you doing to me?"

fluff / new genesis

sfw / blooming sakura

angst fluff / new wounds

angst fluff / nightmare

fluff / for your love

fluff / beach day

angst fluff / fever dream

fluff / wherever you are

fluff / "missed you"

fluff / falling in love

fluff / "I'll just stay behind"

angst fluff / saving you from drowning

sfw / fox and hound

angst fluff / boozey recovery

sfw / two people one mind

sfw / sword skills

fluff / gentleman

fluff / "I am your wife"

fluff / loves to make you laugh

fluff / letting his guard down

fluff / birthday secret

fluff / milestones

fluff / "I told the stars about you"

angst / walls (part 1)

fluff / smooches

sfw / how much he loves you

fluff / mean mugging

fluff / clingy

fluff / pillow talk

angst fluff / slip and fall

fluff / makeout session

fluff / catching up

fluff / the sparrow and the hunter

fluff / wait for me

fluff nsfw / pumpkin

nsfw / breaking point

・・・・・・

Updated:16-March-2024

Live Action Zoro masterlist

Other One Piece fics

Feeling that I'll reach 100 links soon, so probably gonna end up making a part 2 of this post

#one piece masterlist #one piece imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #zoro imagine #zoro headcanons #one piece live action x reader #zoro live action x reader #Roronoa Zoro live action x reader #opla x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla Roronoa Zoro x reader

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thedramaticwriter1 · 2 months

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Stitch 'em up

(Dean x Reader)

Summary: An injured Dean comes back from a hunt.

Character count: 2.7k+

Warnings: Blood, a snarky, injured dean

A/N: Didn’t mean to take so long in between posts, sorry not sorry lol

—————————————————————————————————

You sit on the dinning room chair with a cold beer sat in front of you, bouncing your leg up and down. Dean had called about an hour ago to tell you that his hunt was finished and he would be on his way home. The tone in his voice was tight and it had caused your stomach to sour.

“How bad was it?” You had asked over the phone the second he was done talking.

“Piece of pie, sweetheart. As usual” He replied and you heard him grunt in pain as he attempted to lower himself into the front seat of the Impala.

“Piece of pie my ass, Dean. I can basically hear how hurt you are over the phone” you replied, your grip on your phone tightening as irritation and worry coursed through you. He had told you to take a break on this hunt and relax at home, he could handle it himself. As usual, he was wrong.

“Hmm a piece of pie and your ass? Count me in” his voice dropping an octave at the suggestion, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“Not now Winchester. Just get home so I can deal with you” and with that you hung up the phone.

Another hour you had been waiting for him since that phone call, beer untouched in front of you, starring at the bunker door waiting for him to stride on in. It felt like every minute dragged into a small eternity, each one lasting longer than the one before it. Ages passed by before you heard the rumble of the Impala’s engine and the opening and shutting of its door.

If you hadn’t known he was hurt before, you knew it now. It took him a solid 10 minutes to walk from the impala to the bunkers’ entrance, normally a journey that lasted a couple of seconds.

You watched as he slowly opened the door, hope in his features that maybe you had gone to bed already and he could get his ass chewed out tomorrow morning. Unfortunately for him, he’d get it right now.

His gaze searched the room until he spotted you sitting on the dinning room chair, his whole body slumping in defeat. Like a thief caught in the middle of the night. He wouldn’t even look you in the eye, knowing exactly what he would see.

Worry. Frustration. Fear. Anger. All of which had an equal grip on your mind at the moment.

“What happened?” You asked, not moving from your spot on the chair and not sugar coating this conversation.

The instant he heard your tone he knew he was in big trouble, and what does someone in trouble do? They butter up.

“Sweetheart, have I told you lately how beautiful I think you are?” He responded sweetly, attempting to bat his eye lashes at you while simultaneously trying to hide that he was holding one hand to his obviously injured left side.

“Dean…” you responded while slowly rising up from your chair. Your voice was low and lethal, knowing exactly what he was trying to do.

“Seriously, baby. You're the most beautiful woman on the planet..” he says as he smiles at you while attempting to straighten his hunched form. Still he’s trying to cover up his injuries, even though they are plain as day to you.

“Winchester…” you fling the name at him, half way to him. Already you can see red seeping around where his hand is pressed to his side. Your eyes go wide as you realize he’s still bleeding from an injury he received over two hours ago.

“Honestly Y/N, I’m the luckiest man al-“ is all he gets out as he attempts to take a step in the direction of the the hallway that leads to your shared bedroom in an attempt to escape your anger and doubles over as his legs give out from under him.

“Dean!” You yell as you rush towards him, close enough that you're able to catch him under his arms right before he hits the ground fully.

“Alive” he squeaks out pathetically while still trying to smile up at you. Knees on the ground and still trying to flirt his way his out of this.

Ridiculous. You bend down so you're able to reposition his arm to hang around your shoulders.

“Do you think you can walk towards the bathroom?” You question as you try to gauge how injured he really is.

“Let’s try the kitchen instead” he grunts out. This close to him, you’re able to see that he has no visible wounds on his face, but you wince when you notice his lips are a shade lighter than they normally are.

“Alright then, on the count of three. Ready? One, two, three…” you haul up as much of his weight as you can onto your own body and you both stand up straight. You stand there for a few seconds hoping he can get his bearings and won’t pass out on you. After you're confident he can make the small journey to the kitchen, you start walking. Slowly, step by step, you two head for the kitchen, you leading the way incase you need to catch him if his legs give out again.

“I’m guessing you're not gonna let this one slide, huh baby?” He says as you cross the threshold of the kitchen, almost to the table sitting in the middle of the room.

“Pfft, you’ll be luckily if I ever let you hunt again” you respond. Only half joking, but you’ll deal with that later. “I’m gonna sit you down on that chair okay?” You tell him as you near it.

“Sitting sounds good right now” he responds, wincing with each step you guys take. You finally reach the chair and you gently help him lower himself onto the seat. You move around slowly so that you're standing in front of him, still holding onto his shoulders to steady him. After some time, once you know he’s stable enough on his own, you turn towards the hallway and make a beeline to the bathroom in search of the first aid kit. It became a habit of yours to always have it stocked with the essentials, even going as far as having Sam create a fake hospital personnel ID for you so you could make your way into the local hospital and steal some of the supplies, knowing you’d use them eventually.

Rummaging though the cabinets, you finally locate the kit and rush back to the kitchen. Turning the corner, you see Dean resting his head on the table, his hand still holding pressure on whatever wound he has on his left side.

You reach him and grab his shoulder. “Dean, wake up” you say as you shake him awake, your worry only growing as he takes awhile to wake up. His eyes open slowly at your voice: “I'm not sleeping sweetheart. Just resting my eyes for a little”. You know that's bullshit. Who knows how much blood he’s lost at this point.

“I need to see the wound, Dean” you say sternly, not trying to give way to your concern, knowing there is a job to be done here.

“It’s fine baby, I just need a bandaid that’s all” he says as his eyes close again, not even having the energy to look at you while he talks.

“De, I swear to God, if you don’t show me right now, I’ll let you bleed out on this table” you say, having enough of this shit. You’re tired of him downplaying how serious this was, especially because he needed help.

“No, you wouldn’t” he says, knowing that there was no way in hell that you would let that happen, but still. You needed to get your point across. He finally opens his eyes to look at you and must see how worried you are, cause his lips turn down into a small, sad smile before attempting to remove his hand from his side.

“Let me” you grab the scissors from the first aid kit and make quick work of his shirt, cutting down the side near his injury.

“Hey, that was my favorite…” he responds but all protests die when he sees the face you give him. The shirt is the least of your concern.

Slowly and carefully, trying not to aggravate the wound any further, you peel his shirt off of him and throw it to the ground. You’re finally able to get a full view of it and you're unable to silence the gasp that manages to escape your lips.

From the bottom of his waist stretching across his ribs and ending right under his arm pit are five deep gashes, each one worse than the last. Staring at his mangled skin, one monster comes to mind that could inflict this kind of damage.

“Damn it Dean, you didn’t tell me it was a werewolf case you were on” you scold him as you assess the wounds. You grab the gauze and hydrogen peroxide from the first aid and you get ready to begin to clean the gashes.

“Yeah, well I didn’t want you to wo— Son of a bitch!” He yells as you move the gauze you're holding to the first wound, attempting to scrub the dirty and dried blood off.

“Don’t move or it’s going to hurt even worse” you tell him and you try and hold him still enough with your other hand so you can keep working. Eventually you’ve managed to clean out the first gash and it’s already begun to leak out fresh blood from the irritation from the gauze. You know you need to work quickly, not knowing how much blood he’s already lost on the drive here.

One down. Four to go.

“You try not moving while someone burns your skin off” he retorts, complaining about the hydrogen peroxide your applying, trying your best to avoid infection. You don’t even want to begin to think of how dirty a werewolves claws are.

“It doesn’t even burn you big baby” you say as he flinches at you when you begin to clean the second cut.

“I’m not a big baby” he pouts, closing his eyes, trying to concentrate on anything but what your hands are doing.

“Just save your strength and hush up” you tell him, knowing he needs to save all the energy he has left and not waste it on bantering with you. You continue working, washing the dirt and debris out of the second gash.

Two down. Three to go.

That becomes your mantra as your mind thinks of nothing else but cleaning these wounds.

Three down. Two to go.

You work in silence and Dean doesn’t try to talk again, the pain being too much for him right now. You also don’t attempt a conversation with him right now, knowing that the only words that would come out right now would be filled with anger and fear, and you don’t think you have the stomach for that right now.

Four down. One to go.

After an eternity, you are finally able to clean the last gash, now taking a look at the true wounds in their bloody glory. “You’ll definitely need stitches for these, De. They're too deep” you surmise. All he does is nod his head and you know that the pain is getting to him. “You want something for the pain?” You question, and move to the first aid kit when he nods his head. You pull out the painkillers and grab the bottle of whiskey that was resting on the table. “Both will help, trust me” you say and you hand him the pills and open the whiskey bottle for him.

He’s slow to move, not wanting to injure himself further. He gradually brings the pills to his lips, then the bottle, taking a few good gulps before handing it back to you.

“Do you want to wait till they kick in before I start stitching you up?” You ask him. He shakes his head slowly.

“Just get it over with” he responds, carefully laying his head back on the table.

And that’s what you do for the next hour. Stitch by stitch, you close the wounds that are scattered across his skin. He’s definitely going to have a few scars, but there’s nothing you can do about that now, and it’s not like scars have ever bothered him before. He even revels in them a little, physical proof of what he’s overcome. Half way through you can tell he’s still in pain, but you notice his breathing has gotten more even, his shoulders more relaxed, and you know the pain killers have started to kick in. You breathe a sigh of relief and keep working. Your mind goes blank as you focus solely on what’s in front of you.

Stitch, blood, stitch, some more blood, stitch, blood.

104 stitches and an empty whiskey bottle later, you finally finish. When he feels your hands lift from him, he stirs a little.

“You done?” He questions you. He slightly slurs his words as his eyes look up at you with his head still resting on the table, waiting for your response.

“Yeah I’m done” you respond as you finish dressing the wound. You finally stand up and look down at him. You're still upset at him for downplaying how injured he was, but seeing him now, some what whole and alive, you can’t help the knee wobbling relief that washes over you.

You reach your hand out and rub it through his hair, savoring the way it feels in your fingers. “I am so incredibly pissed off at you right now” you say weakly, but even as the words leave your lips, your eyes begin to water.

“I know. I’m sorry sweetheart” he responds, dragging his hand up to rest on your hip. “You can yell at me tomorrow, I promise” he says, squeezing lightly.

Your heart clenches at the gesture, and you smile through your tears. “Alright”, you respond as you wipe at your eyes. “Let’s get you to bed” you say as you move closer to him to help him stand up. You’re careful not to rub against his dressed wounds and grunt a little as you stand up with his arm wrapped around your shoulders. With small, slow steps both of you make it to your shared bedroom. You swing the door open with your foot and he turns on the light with his free hand. You make your way to the bed and gently lower him down.

“I’m gonna get you out of these” you tell him, nudging at his jeans, eyeing the blood and grime scattered on them, knowing he’ll be more comfortable if he changes.

“If you wanted me naked sweetheart, you could have just asked” he responds, looking up at you while attempting to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively.

“Ha-ha, very funny. I’d like to see you try any kind of move right now” you say, turning and walking towards his dresser, searching for a clean pair of shorts to change him in to. While digging through his drawers he responds: “Oh I have plenty of moves”. You look over and chuckle at him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to move off the bed, let alone do anything else. You walk back to him and begin taking his jeans off. Slowly dragging them down his legs, you search for any other wounds, glad to not find any. Once he’s changed, you help him lay under the covers and get comfortable. He’s already asleep by the time you move to the adjacent bathroom to change yourself. Once finished, you lay down with him.

You can’t stop yourself from staring at him, memorizing the already known freckles on his face. You reach to stroke the stubble he’s neglected to shave on the hunt, the movement causing him to stir.

“You know I love you, right?” He mumbles, not completely awake.

“I know. I love you too” you respond, moving to kiss his cheek. “You’re definitely gonna hear about this in the morning” you add, knowing that an argument tonight wouldn’t benefit anyone. You also were too grateful he was still in one piece to be fully upset with him right now.

“That’s alright baby. Yell at me all you want. The sex after our arguments is always the best” he says, grinning with his eyes still closed.

You scoff. “You’re horrible” you say, smiling back at him, knowing he’s exactly right.

#supernatural edit #supernatural x reader #supernatural prompts #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fandom #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester #spn #dean x you #supernatural dean #angst #fluff #dean winchester x reader

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classsymemes · 2 years

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a comprehensive list of scenarios

feel free to combine multiple prompts or add “ + reverse ” to switch roles ! for reference, the one sending in the prompt is the one committing the action.

1. GUEST : for one muse to offer the other a place to stay. 2. STORM : for both muses to find shelter from a severe storm. 3. MEDIC : for one muse to show up at the other’s doorstep injured. 4. SURPRISE : for one muse to come home and find the other already inside. 5. TRIP : for both muses to road trip or travel together. 6. BABYSIT : for one muse to help the other home while they’re drunk. 7. INSOMNIA : for one muse to find the other still awake at 3am. 8. AMBUSH : for both characters to come under attack by the same enemy. 9. DANCE : for one muse to ask the other to dance at a party. 10. STRANDED : for one muse to help the other who’s stranded on the road. 11. SERVICE : for one muse to cover the cost of something for the other. 12. SAFEGUARD : for one muse to save the other from being hit by a vehicle or from some other life-threatening event. 13. DAZE : for one muse to wake somewhere and find the other hovering over them. 14. STOWAWAY : for one muse to find the other hiding on the same ship. 15. TAXI : for both muses to share the same taxi ride. 16. MAKEOVER : for one muse to help the other with a new outfit or hairstyle. 17. LIFEGUARD : for one muse to rescue the other from drowning. 18. DISASTER : for both muses to work together to escape a fire, flood, or other disaster. 19. TRANSIT : for one muse to sit next to the other on a public transport. 20. SPRAIN : for one muse to carry the other after spraining their ankle. 21. EMPLOY : for one muse to be hired as the other’s bodyguard, tutor, assistant, etc. 22. QUEST : for one muse to help the other with a task in exchange for compensation. 23. SOOTHE : for one muse to calm the other during a panic attack. 24. RECOVER : for one muse to return the other’s lost belonging. 25. UMBRELLA : for one muse to share their umbrella with the other on a rainy day. 26. HEAL : for one muse to nurse the other back to health from a sickness or injury. 27. NIGHTMARE : for one muse to comfort the other after a nightmare. 28. REUNION : for one muse to run into the other again after a long time. 29. PRIZE : for one muse to win the other a prize at a carnival. 30. NUDE : for one muse to walk in on the other while they’re changing. 31. BED : for both muses to wake in the same bed, naked or fully clothed. 32. TRAIL : for one muse to notice the other has been following them. 33. EVADE : for one muse to pull the other into an alleyway to escape their pursuer. 34. THIEF : for one muse to confront the other after having something stolen by them. 35. CAUGHT : for one muse to walk in on the other singing / dancing. 36. FESTIVE : for both muses to decorate for a special occasion. 37. PRESENT : for one muse to give the other a (birthday) gift. 38. WEARY : for one muse to wake up after falling asleep on the other. 39. CAPTIVE : for one muse to hold the other against their will. 40. SNAP : for one muse to yell at or push the other out of frustration. 41. SLEEPOVER : for one muse to stay the night at the other’s place. 42. TRESPASS : for one muse to trespass on the other’s property. 43. BREAK-IN : for one muse to discover the other robbing their place. 44. MERCY : for both muses to come across an injured animal. 45. UNKNOWN : for both muses to wake and find themselves in a strange place. 46. ACCOMPLICE : for one muse to assist the other at the scene of a crime. 47. ASTRAY : for both muses to take a detour and lose their way. 48. RELAX : for both muses to share a hot tub or hot spring. 49. MUSE : for one muse to model for the other's art project. 50. ACCOMPANY : for one muse to give the other an extra ticket to an event. 51. SALVAGE : for one muse to retrieve the other's belongings from a thief. 52. MEAL : for both muses to prepare and share a meal together. 53. CEMETERY : for one muse to find the other at a gravestone. 54. REFUGE : for one muse to shelter the other from enemies. 55. ARRANGED : for both muses to date or marry out of convenience. 56. FAVOR : for one muse to owe the other a favor. 57. VACATION : for both muses to book the same hotel on vacation. 58. DEFEND : for one muse to save the other from one or multiple assailants. 59. CATCH : for one muse to return the other's pet that escaped. 60. RESTRICTED : for both muses to sneak into someplace they're not supposed to be.

#rp meme #rp memes #rp prompts #ask memes #inbox memes #roleplay meme #roleplay prompts

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symphonyofsilence · 5 months

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The thing about Mu Qing is that a lot of the time we see him, he doesn't have much but he offers all he has and beyond.

All he had were the few cherries he picked at the cost of being beaten and humiliated and called a thief (as the only poor disciple among many rich kids who could have bought those cherries any time they wanted) to give to his mother and yet when the poor children surrounded him he gave those cherries to them.

He had a cursed shackle and yet he was the only one who offered to accompany Xie Lian, Hua Cheng & and Mei Nianqing to Mt. Tonglu. (even though Jun Wu had told him that his friends would assume that he was a traitor and leave him to die and MNQ & Hua Cheng obviously hated him and he thought that XL & FX hated him, too.) He not only had a cursed shackle but burnt hands and feet and injured legs and yet he threw himself in the lava to fight and buy time for XL. He could barely walk but attacked Jun Wu head-on with his Zhanmaodo. The shackle tightened around his hand and it was draining his blood and his spiritual powers were sealed and his injuries and burns weren't healing and he was dangling from a freaking cliff and his hair had nearly touched the lava and yet! Right when MNQ wanted to help him up he asked him to send him further down so he could retrieve XL's sword for him!!

When XL had just saved Mu Qing and Bai Wuxiang dragged him down Ruoye, which earlier was explained wouldn't do pointless things (and when asked by XL to grab onto something firm and reliable grabbed onto FX & MQ after HC) made a lunge for Mu Qing, because it knew that Mu Qing would grab it and maybe could do something to save Xie Lian. And Mu Qing, having just been saved, balancing on a sword on burnt legs in the middle of running lava grabbed onto Ruoye with burnt hands and didn't let go even when he was overpowered and dragged along with Xie Lian.

And for all of these, he never expects anything in return! No gratitude, no credit, no friendship, and no affection. He just does these things because that's the kind of person he is.

He's the kind of person who refuses to recruit child soldiers, he's the kind of person who sees a random lady going through forced abortion and tries to save her and the baby, he's the kind of person who even when he's chased out of the house by a broom by his friends, leaves the rice he brought with them, he's the kind of person who even if he assumes XL threw the clock on him & pretended not to know him on purpose disguises himself and goes to XL's help, he's the kind of person who tries to save FX even when he has a cursed shackle, he's the kind of person who not only doesn't abandon his friends under Jun Wu's threats but goes after them knowing that at every step Jun Wu will try to frame him and as far as he knows, his friends don't trust him or like him and he doesn't even think they're friends. he's the kind of person who couldn't bring himself to steal one golden leaf from the prince who had hundreds of them in the depths of his poverty to help his mother yet doesn't blame XL for trying to steal that one time because he understands, he's the kind of person who claims that "truly, there's no point in being a good person" but still helps every time everywhere he can. He's the one who when he can't do anything, when he's lost his attacking powers after going for Jun Wu all he can think about is XL who is grabbed by Jun Wu and calls out for XL to run even as he throws up blood. He's the god who when he ascends what we hear of his followers are: "General Xuan Zhen is generous and kind!"

Just...Mu Qing and his unfailing kindness!

#mu qing #tgcf #tian guan ci fu #heaven official's blessing #hob #my two cents

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siryouarebeingmocked · 2 months

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Canadian Newspaper Globe And Mail: Conservative Leader wants harsher jail sentences for repeat offender auto thieves.

Nora Loreto, self-described Socialist: Stealing cars is a victimless crime!

Loreto: Also, most people in our jails are innocent!

Loreto: As long as you use the extremely technical definition of “jail” that means “a place where people are usually held before trial and are therefore legally innocent”, which is not how it is generally used.

Loreto: I say this while ignoring how car theft means there is a victim, by definition.

Me:

Some idiot also claimed the real issue was car manufacturers making a ‘defective product’, and the “logical step” should be the government going after them for obvious collusion with insurance companies.

The intellectual titan agreed.

Even though about five seconds thought would go “wait, wouldn’t having an insecure car reduce sales? And don’t insurance companies try to avoid paying out money? And isn’t car insurance mandatory anyway?”

She has a substack post about it, and it’s, uh, special. As in Ed. (archive)

>For me, I understand a victim to be someone whose life is irrevocably impacted, negatively, by forces they cannot control.

>You’re not a victim if things can be made well through consumption.

If someone spills my drink in a bar, I'm still a victim even if they or I buy me a new drink. It doesn't un-spill the drink.

Even if I get a new car, that’s a lot of trouble to go through.

>You’re a victim if you’ve experienced something that means that you’ll never again be the person you were before.

Because no one's ever been permanently traumatized by someone using force to take their stuff. Even leaving aside the times where the thief assaulted and seriously injured the car owner.

>My immediate, half-serious reaction, that jailing people for a victimless crime is ridiculous, caught a lot of heat.

Ah, yes, the classic "I wasn't serious (except when I was)" dodge.

>Thousands of men told me how much they love their cars, how their cars hold them at night and make love to them. My emails and direct messages filled up with lots of “if you steal my car I will kill you”s and “where do you live so I can steal your cars”es. The people were mad that I could assert such a thing.

Along with the classic "let's make this a gender issue, for some reason" and "talking about the harassment so I look more like a victim while ignoring the actual criticism".

>It’s the formulation that this object is so premordial that anything that may befall a car, whether a jacking or an overpacked highway, is a personal attack on the car’s owner. It’s silly.

And naturally, a red just starts making up entirely new arguments for and assumptions about the critics from thin air instead of addressing the actual criticism.

A carjacking is a violent theft of an occupied car.

Which means the operator must a) be removed, by force and/or threat of force, or b) become a hostage of the 'jacker. Sometimes both.

It's amazing that this intellectual titan can even type while she's staring so hard at her navel. Or...another body part. From the inside.

#stupid #canada #crime #twitter #oh snap #long #lolgic #socialism #grand theft auto #strawman #crazy\

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earthtooz · 2 years

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in which you give bakugo katsuki the silent treatment

warnings: 2.3k words, fluff fic, slight hurt but mostly comfort, bakugo is sad :( he doesn't like being ignored, i wrote this weeks ago i can't remember shit about what i put in this. UNEDITED ASF!!!

a/n: this was not supposed to be a standalone fic, this was actually meant to be a multi-character thing about giving them the silent treatment but that didn't turn out as planned bc i have no time so i only have bakugo ready lol! hope you enjoy

there’s a pair of crimson eyes burning holes in the side of your head and you can feel the gaze penetrating further and further into your skull with each passing second.

you almost have the nerve to ask when bakugo katsuki learnt how to use his armour-piercing shot with his eyes.

but alas, you bite the inside of your cheek and continue ignoring him, fingers tapping away on your keyboard to finish up your report.

it’s now day three of your silent treatment. your boyfriend has endured 48, painful hours of the punishment that he rightfully deserved and he’s been restless for all 48 hours. it’s a miracle that he’s survived this long because you totally would’ve expected him to blow up already.

how ironic that he’s acting sensible now yet couldn’t hold his tongue when you two were taking down the villain.

the event that caused bakugo’s predicament was actually the report you were finishing, a gang of villains - experienced ones, had broken into a high-end jewellery store and stolen majority of their dazzling diamonds and you and bakugo just so happened to be on site.

you were expecting a robbery chase that happened at least every three days. what you weren’t expecting, was that they were good. like, really good.

one of the thief’s quirks kept grazing you and it didn’t help that the communication between you and bakugo was off that day, so when you meet up with him again after splitting up, unconscious villains in tow with a few injuries to pair with it.

he failed to stop the big words that tumbled out of his mouth.

“what the hell was that? you seriously failed to listen to some simple instructions? you might wanna go back to being a fuckin’ sidekick because of how shit that was and you have the nerve to call yourself a pro?” thundered the explosive blond, whose face was getting closer and closer to yours with each passing second.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you took down the villain, what was the big deal? “excuse me?” you muttered lowly.

that seems to tick him off even more, “you heard me! that was embarrassing to watch, kept getting hit and injured by some shitty extra. we don’t need heroes like you to screw things as simple as a robbery chase up!”

bakugo had been ticked off the second he first entered the agency this morning, so you were aware he was in a bad mood and you probably were the final strike to him letting loose of his temper- but that was not an excuse for the venom he was spitting. no matter how desperately you wanted to retaliate, you kept your cool for the sake of your relationship and also because you were in public. you didn’t need anyone listening to realise that it was you that bakugo was shouting at, so with no sound, you turn around and meet up with the police, villains in hand.

that seemed to shut him up pretty easily, thank goodness to your eardrums.

“we took ‘em down,” you said the second the police scrambled out of their cars. you tried to keep the frustration and anger out of your tone but the way you threw the villains with a little more force than necessary against the police car caused the officers to flinch.

a certain blond appears not long after, now calmer and more guilty-looking.

“thanks you two. we dug through our records and found out that these criminals have been wanted for a while. kept escaping under our noses,” one policeman says with a grateful smile. you don’t bother to return it, blaming it on the cut on your cheek.

“no problem. just call us if you ever need us again,” you tell him with a proper nod.

you and bakugo watch the policemen secure the villains, not moving until the last car leaves your sight.

he turns to you and finally says something to break the suffocating tension between you two.

“you should probably get some first aid for those cuts.”

bakugo tries to sound normal- really, he tries, because the second you turned around and left him in the alley, he realised the magnitude of his stupidity and felt his heart drop to his stomach, fearing for the worst.

with a small ‘tch’ from you, you’re gone the next second from his sight, probably flying back to the agency.

you don’t speak to him. even when he spams your phone with check up texts, even when he returns after patrol, even when he walks into your office whilst you rapidly type away at your laptop furiously, making more typos than you’d like to admit.

“hey,” he says sternly, trying to capture your attention with little success. “c’mon, talk to me.”

bakugo rounds the table and bobs down beside you, careful not to aggravate you by touching you even though it was hard to resist the temptation. natural boyfriend instinct.

“y/n, i didn’t mean what i said back there, i swear,” he continues, “i was just, fuckin’ mad at- i don’t even know, and i shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

it’s beautiful how he can say everything beside ‘sorry’.

“please don’t ignore me.”

he’s frowning, and you really wanna look at him and respond, but you don’t and this dance continues for the next two days. bakugo asks if you want coffee; no answer but he brings it for you regardless. bakugo asks if you need help sorting through the mess of papers on your desk; no answer but he cleans it up regardless, in the exact way you like it. bakugo asks if you need him to run by the support gear department to check up on your costume; no answer but he does it for you regardless and tells you all the updates as well. (he’s not doing it for your forgiveness. this is a usual routine you two have so even without your answers, he knows whether you’ll say yes or no.)

now he’s sitting in your office whilst you finish writing up the report you’ve been neglecting for a while because often, to speed things up, you and bakugo split up the paperwork but with you pretending like he, your boyfriend, doesn’t exist, that wasn’t really possible.

at the 67th hour of no speaking, he snaps. now that you two were officially off the clock and could return home or do as you please, bakugo spends no time picking you up from your chair with little to no effort as a noise of surprise slips past your lips.

you want to ask where he was taking you as he glides through the halls with determination and vigour, his shoes clanking against the marble floor with each step he took, keeping you secured in his arms, pressed against his chest.

there’s a string of curses that you could yell at your boyfriend right now and don’t be mistaken, you could very easily take him down, if it weren't for how much you had missed him.

(you feel slightly terrible for keeping up this silent treatment because that pout on his face is growing by the second, but it’s what he deserves and you wouldn’t relent until a proper ‘sorry’ is given.)

in your moment of zoning out, bakugo has reached his car and seated you in the passenger seat, leaning over you to secure your seatbelt. the kiss he places on your face practically radiates with his complacency at getting you safely in his car.

you huff and cross your arms as he rounds the vehicle to the driver’s side. bakugo hands you the aux and you take it, plugging in your phone to find your shared playlist and you don’t miss the smirk he has when he sees the familiar playlist name pop up on the screen.

the drive is painless enough with no words being exchanged, the music muting the silence that still had some tension lingering in it.

bakugo’s taking you back to his apartment and sure enough, the second the car is parked (perfectly), bakugo tells you ‘don’t move’ before exiting and jogging around to get to your side.

you let him pick you up again with a sigh but it’s all for show, especially the way your heart flutters when you notice he’s hugging you a little tighter this time.

he’s probably afraid you’re gonna run off (he’s had that fear since you first started dating).

sure enough, the explosive blond doesn’t set you down until he steps foot into his bedroom and from there, he throws you on his expensive ass bed with ease, clambering atop you before crushing you with all his weight.

a little ‘oof’ escapes you.

“‘m not getting up till you speak to me,” he lazily threatens, wrapping his arms around your middle. “so you can either get comfy or stop messin’ around.”

“i’m still mad at you, y’know,” you murmur, bringing your hands behind your head whilst staring up at his ceiling. the man lying above you stiffens, taking his head out of his chest to look up at you.

“i’m sorry,” he gruffly confesses, unable to look you in your eye when you glance back down at him with your jaw agape and eyes widened.

yes, he should have said the apology ages ago. yes, it’s been long overdue. yes, you were still surprised that he managed to get those two syllables out of his mouth.

above all, bakugo katsuki is stubborn, unrelenting and powerful, and you’re surprised he succumbed without you suggesting for him to apologise.

you sit up on your elbows, recovered from your brief moment of shock to tell him, “you’re not forgiven.”

“what?” he gawks, outraged, “what else do you want from me?”

“it’s been two days! you could’ve said ‘sorry’ two days ago and i would have forgiven you!”

“fuckin’ hell, i didn’t think of that.”

“bakugo katsuki, are you really that stupid?”

“take it back!”

“not until you take calling-me-a-lame-hero back!”

“i’m sorry! i take it back!” he winces, “you sure know how to kill a man, huh? i’m sorry, i didn’t mean what i said, now talk to me again, y/n, these past few days have been torture!”

you can’t help but smile at his desperation. he never acts like this for anyone so you’re going to enjoy these rare moments of vulnerability for a little longer.

“told me to go back to bein’ a side kick,” you huffed, “that’s not a bad idea actually, maybe i’ll listen and apply to be midoriya’s. or todoroki’s. they’re climbing the ranks quite quickly-”

“-y/n!” he’s whining now and you’re afraid you have a manchild lying atop you now.

“i’m joking.”

“you’re mean.”

“oh so now i’m the mean one? what about when-”

“-shut your mouth!”

“is this another one of your instructions? telling me that i’m unworthy of being a hero to the extent that i need to shut my mouth-”

“-stop it!”

you fall back on his pillows in a fit of laughter and as your giggles fill the room, bakugo can’t help but feel his heart ache. this is what he’s been yearning for for the past few days, moments that are so unexplainably, unabashedly you that he realised he doesn’t want to go another day without it. now that you’re back in his arms, he knows everything will be okay, especially with the familiar feeling of your hands carding through his hair.

“i’m really sorry. i didn’t mean to be that mean,” he begins after a moment of silence. it takes a few more seconds for him to continue, “i was just freaking out seein’ you get hurt and i was really fuckin’ panicking because those injuries were totally avoidable. i should have protected you and i shouldn't have gone at you for just doing your job. i was scared.”

you can't help but melt a little at his confession, and the way you can feel him frown into your skin whilst tugging you closer, you feel more loved than ever fathomable.

“thank you, katsuki. i appreciate it but you know i can take care of myself, and i know you’re always going to protect me when i need it. i trust you, more than anyone else.”

bakugo closes his eyes in content as he tugs himself closer to you than what should be considered possible. you welcome him for all of his roughness and raggedness. he just might be doomed if he didn't have you.

“we should really move in together,” you suggest.

“yeah, yeah we should.”

after a few minutes of silence, you begin to speak up, “i have my night patrol soon, you have to let me go, babe.”

he squeezes you tighter, “but i literally just got you! i’m getting my three days worth of attention, fuck your patrol.”

“that’s not very heroic of you,” you murmur, “now let me go.”

“no.”

above all, bakugo katsuki loves you.

hai hai :D thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed that PLS CONSIDER REBLOGGING!!!! i hope that i didn't fuck anything up too much lul i'm so tired but anyways, YAH REBLOGS HELP OUT SO MUCH SO PLS!!!!! one click 🗣🗣🗣

that's all from me, hope to see you around the blog! - earf

#idk what this was #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugo imagine #bakugo katsuki #my hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia x reader

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tiredfox64 · 12 days

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Hello! Sooo I had this idea of a forbidden love story between Bihan and the reader. The reader is a good friend of Liu Kang and was assigned to assist Kaui Liang and Tomas with the Shirai Ryu and becomes friends with them. Despite all that, Bihan was already in love with the reader because she's genuinely a good and innocent person and feels the need to be protective of her while the reader struggles with her feelings because he's now a traitor even though she's attracted to him.

How Could You

Prior notes: Reader: I think I’m in love with Bi-Han. Any thoughts?

Liu Kang: And prayers, you’re going to need them.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Angst or even none. I don’t know you decide. I’m not your mom, Tyler!

Bi-Han was many things but you would have never imagined he would be a traitor to Earthrealm. It broke your heart to hear the news from Lord Liu Kang. But that feeling was swept away once he gave you more news.

“Not all hope is lost. Kuai Liang and Tomas have creating a new clan to defend Earthrealm. The Shirai Ryu. Your service is needed as I want you to help their clan grow strong. For now there are no threats but we can never be too careful.” He said.

You have your own mission now. A service to Lord Liu Kang, to the Shirai Ryu, and Earthrealm. But you can’t get over that feeling in your chest. That sorrow of Bi-Han being gone.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Your service was indeed needed. Finding the right initiates was difficult even with the help of Harumi. The only one who was able to bring any hope was Hanzo yet even he needed a lot of work.

Your personality made it easier. Your heart of gold attracted many to come. None wanted to disappoint you. If someone failed and they saw you frown they immediately fixed their errors just to see you smile and cheer them on.

Your need to care for others also helped greatly. If anyone was injured you were quick to patch them up and make sure they were well rested. It quenched people’s worries about being badly hurt and never recovering. If you can care for a little bunny who was only acting hurt for attention, you can take great care of a person.

You also grew closer to Kuai Liang and Tomas. Kuai Liang would have thought this task would be much more difficult even with the help of his wife. Seeing how you brought hundreds to the clan and continue to bring more made you a true gem to him. Tomas especially was grateful of your good deeds. You were useful when training the initiates as you were able to simplify instructions to the others comprehension. If Tomas wasn’t able to make them do what he wanted them to do he would have thrown in the towel way too early.

You even sparked a great relationship with Harumi and Hanzo. Harumi not only appreciated your help when it came to training but housing all the new initiates. You made everyone comfortable and placed them in the rooms they most likely wanted to stay in. You gathered food and helped cook as well. Cooking for hundreds was not an easy task but you were always willing to help and give the healthiest meals. Everyone needed to be in tip top shape. Hanzo, though a rambunctious teenager with great anger, was able to be calmed by your presence. I think he could sense that you have a good heart. You understood his frustration and how he had to survive by being a thief. You reassured him that those days are done and he is in good hands. He will become great and strong, you will make sure of that.

The Shirai Ryu was flourishing. The combined effort of everyone resulted in a fine clan. A clan you felt like could be as great as the Lin Kuei. Things looked up yet you still felt down about Bi-Han’s betrayal. You’re not alone in that and you knew it. You couldn’t let others find out about your feelings. So when the end of the day would come and you were left by yourself, your smile would falter. Tears would prick your eyes. You thought Bi-Han would be good, at least for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Bi-Han felt it was necessary to separate his clan from the binds of Lord Liu Kang. But at what cost.

He has earned them infamy which he could never accept. But he was forced to accept the fact that he lost you. He lost the one person who could warm his frozen heart. Hands that would hold his heart and let the ice melt.

Even when you two met there was a strange spark. You would always go next to him yet keep distance as to not upset him. You would say anything and everything to him when he never asked for him. At first he would tell you to shut up and leave him alone. No matter what you always came back. You would be hiding behind a tree and watching him from a distance just to get a glimpse of him.

You never knew why but Bi-Han made you feel things. Maybe it was his handsome face. Or that deep voice that when he grunted you felt something in your stomach. Or his muscles that seemed so fun to touch. Soon enough he started getting the hint.

You know what they say, opposites attract. Though he always found goodness to be a weakness he saw how it benefited. Whenever you visited the Lin Kuei wanted to impress you and so they worked harder than before. All those times Bi-Han would yell at them they never worked harder. But encouragement from you made them into fighting machines. Who would have thought.

Then you started to get real nice to him. That moment when you tucked that piece of loose hair behind his ear he always remembered to keep a loose strand of hair out. He wanted you to do it over and over again. Have your fingertips lightly graze his face and feel how warm you were against his cold skin. You noticed the effect it had on him and used it to your advantage to be closer to him.

He liked, no, loved when you praised him for his skills. It made him feel superior to everyone, including his brothers. Cause he should be superior to them as he was the grandmaster.

Bi-Han was disgusted by the people in his clan when they would make lewd comments about you. Comments about your chest, your hips, your thighs, your everything. Or when they criticize you for being too nice or too much of a goody two shoes. He didn’t know what came over him but he would end up nearly beating them to death during training. They’d act surprised that their grandmaster would do such a thing, nearly crippling some of his best fighters. But when it comes to you it doesn’t matter. He has to protect your honor. He has to protect you from the filthy eyes of lowlifes. You need his protection.

But your innocence. That was quite a shock to him.

Never had a kiss? Not even on the cheek? Well, he fixed that right up. When you confessed to him that you never gotten a kiss from a man he felt it was his duty to fix that. It’s an honor to be kissed by the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. Even a kiss on the cheek sent you into a spiral. His lips barely touched you! Yet you reacted as if you two had a five minute make out session. Your mouth was shut tight and you placed your forehead on his arm to help cool you down. Bi-Han couldn’t help it, he had a small smirk on his face which he hid from you. He could only imagine how you would have reacted if he did it on the lips.

But he might never know. Because he messed up by being a traitor. Some days he feels like he did the right thing by gaining the Lin Kuei’s freedom. While others he feels anger because he can’t be near you.

When he heard that you were helping the Shirai Ryu he went mad. Anything in his sight was targeted. Spikes made of ice littered the land. Their jagged and cold form matched how he felt in his heart.

Now who will protect you from the filthy pest of the world. Bi-Han doesn’t know where you are. The Shirai Ryu are too good at hiding and that makes them cowards. Someone could take your innocence and what then. His brothers don’t care about you like Bi-Han cares about you. You’re only safe in his arms and in his sight. You must never be left alone with anybody. Filthy men putting their hands on you, that thought alone makes him furious.

You were his light in a gloomy world. Even if you were friends with Lord Liu Kang he saw you as your own person. A victim to Liu Kang who probably has you wrapped around his fingers. You need to be free just like him. Not following orders like you are now. You must be so depressed without him.

In a way you are as you still struggle to accept the situation. You’re no victim however. Even though Liu Kang said you were done with your task a while ago you still continue out of the kindness of your heart. It’s the right thing to do. But you will continue and mourn what could have been.

If only he kept you in mind when Shang Tsung made that horrible offer. None of this would have happened. This shouldn’t have happened.

You’re only left with sadness. You lost someone you were willing to love and change. You were so close to warming Bi-Han’s heart. You warmed it enough that he feels regret for what he has done. But he can’t turn back now. What’s done is done. Maybe in another timeline he was never a traitor. In another timeline you two are together where he can protect you and love you for who you are.

After notes: If I have not satisfied your needs you can force me to eat British Chinese food. Or you can yell at me either one goes, you can even tell me to redo it all. A little bit of a warning I might be silent for one or two days just cause of classes. Literally have to make a 6-8 minute speech about contraceptives in the span of two days. So either it will be backpocket fics, reblogs (I have faith in the 🍊), or nothing. You’ll know when you’ll know. Adiós!

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bby-deerling · 4 months

Text

crackerbox palace (zoro x reader)

dedicated to the anon who wanted to see artist!reader joining the crew! i got a bit carried away, so this one's a bit longer! as always, this can be read standalone, but is part of my larger zoro x artist!reader continuity.

ft. fem!reader, artist!reader, fluff, strawhat antics, sanji being sanji, a bit of canon divergence to allow for reader to join the crew

wc: 1.8k masterlist

Shortly after the events at the Baratie, the Merry docks for a brief supply restock at a small island nearby. With Zoro grievously injured, Nami sends Luffy and Usopp out to find a proper doctor; when they return with a painter in tow, she sighs, not sure why she expected them to heed her directions in the first place.

The allure of a quick portrait painting by a street vendor was too tempting for Luffy and Usopp to resist, and you jumped at the opportunity for some customers, and some good company. Rambling about your dream to be a painter renowned enough to leave a permanent mark on history gets your muses excited, and they shared their own dreams in turn.

“Can’t believe I’m lucky enough to paint the future King of the Pirates! I wish I could capture the rest of your journey!” you gushed, grin plastered across your face as you spun around your canvas to show Luffy your first finished piece. Stars in his eyes, he praised your work with excitement, and nearly ruined the painting as he eagerly inspected it; however, as you motioned Usopp to sit take his place and sit for his portrait, you picked up on a faint sense of gears turning in the rubber boy’s head as he watches you.

As you worked, putting more effort than usual into steadying your wrists on account of how hard the two of them were making you laugh, movement blurring in your peripheral vision breaks your focus—a petty thief was reaching for the great “Captain” Usopp’s wallet. His slick fingers were fast, but you were quicker to the draw, brushes clattering on the ground and paint streaking across your clothes as you reached for one of your throwing knives, launching the blade straight through his hand and pinning it to the ground. The three of you quickly ran the pickpocket off, and after some lively conversation, you returned to your task of capturing Usopp’s likeness, refining the forms of the highlights and shadows on his face.

“How come you jumped in to help us?” the sniper asked, eyeing you curiously while trying not to move too much.

“When I paint someone, I feel like I leave a piece of my soul in the work. I feel a connection with the people I paint—I know we don’t know each other well, but I feel a responsibility to take care of my friends.” you said, sheepish grin on your face and an echo of loneliness in your voice. Pink flush tickled your cheeks, embarrassed at getting attached so quickly to the exuberant strangers that had captivated you all afternoon.

“Since we’re friends now, join my crew!” Luffy said decisively, his thoughtful expression from before replaced with a wide grin.

“Luffy, are you sure?” Usopp whispered hesitantly, grabbing onto his captain’s shoulder as he sized you up.

“’Course I am!” he exclaimed, throwing his rubbery arm around your shoulders, prompting you to grin and stow your materials in your travel easel. Luffy laughed at your eagerness—he wouldn’t have asked if he wasn’t sure you were going to accept, after all.

“C’mon, show me to the ship, Captain!” you say excitedly once you click the final latch on your pochade box, buzzing and nearly vibrating with the promise of abandoning a stagnant downward spiral for an opportunity to chase your wildest dreams.

And it was as simple as that; here you were, boarding the Merry after a brief detour to pack some essential belongings. Itching to travel, sail, and feel the thrill of the sea breeze through your hair, there are no reservations as you step onto the deck; one life was all you had, and Luffy’s energy had thoroughly convinced you that from this point forward, every single moment would be full of meaning, purpose, and happiness—the true kind, that feeds one’s soul with a hearty and nourishing meal.

“Hope you don’t mind being put on first aid duty for a while—we don’t have a doctor yet.” Nami says after a brief introduction, shooting a glare at an oblivious Luffy. “Zoro’s pretty beat up.” she clarifies, handing you supplies as she motions her head towards the injured swordsman leaning against the railing.

Giving her a gracious smile as she fills your arms with bandages and salves, you nod and assure her it’s no problem at all, feeling a sense to prove yourself and get into the navigator’s good graces.

“You’ll love her, Zoro! She fights with two knives at once!” Usopp exclaims as he and Luffy make fake stabbing motions at each other, which quickly devolves into play-fighting before Nami scolds them and gives them something productive to do, confirming your intuition was correct in assuming that she was the one who kept things running smoothly.

Zoro simply sighs, barely paying you a passing glance; one could hardly blame him as his steely gaze fixes ahead at nothing, fighting to not drift out of consciousness. Crouching in front of him, you give him a gentle smile and introduce yourself; he gives you a curt nod in return, and you start to clean his gash. Turning your attention from his clenched jaw, tanned skin, and short, messy mint green hair, focused doe-eyes are glued to the messy, bloody, oozing injury that looks like it had already been ripped back open a few times.

“I heard from Luffy that you got this wound from Dracule Mihawk…” you say hesitantly as you work, curious but not wanting to pry too deeply. His stare is cautious, but a glint in his eyes urges you to continue your thought. A spark lights behind your gaze as your lips curl upward. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? That he sees your potential? That means you’re really gonna do it—you’re gonna be the World’s Strongest Swordsman!”

Upon hearing your words, a slight smile forms on his face and you truly look at him for the first time. Sunset casts a soft orange light, warm and comforting, over his tired face; you feel your heart stutter as you smile back at him.

“Makes every bit of the pain worth it.” he replies, letting his grin grow larger until another dab of anti-septic makes him cringe again. Remnants of a smile still on your face, you let your bottom lip pout apologetically, silently sympathizing with his discomfort.

“I know it hurts, but it looks a bit infected—we gotta make sure we keep this clean.” you mumble, voice trailing off as you become intently focused on tending to the areas of his wound that were starting to secrete a mystery yellow liquid.

Though the task at hand was less than appetizing, the tantalizing scent of something brewing in the ship’s kitchen intermingles with the scent of chemicals and sea salt in the air; as if on cue, a pair of suave footsteps nearly dances beside you, breaking your concentration and making you huff in annoyance.

“What goddess has taken such pity on a man such as me on this lovely evening? Does this gorgeous creature have a name she could—”

“We know each other, Sanji.” you say dryly, only sparing him a momentary glance before going back to cleaning Zoro’s wounds as he laid back against the railing of the Merry. The cook is shocked enough by your words to pause his professions of adoration and scrutinize you, scanning each of your features intently to try to place your face. Eventually, a wave of recognition washes over his face, light sparking in his eyes at the successfully recovered memory.

“Of course we do,sunshine.” he says after a long pause, before informing you and the swordsman that dinner would be ready in a few minutes. You nod and go back to your job of patching up Zoro, and Sanji finds himself lighting a cigarette and lurking behind the mast to observe you and eavesdrop on your conversation with the swordsman.

“What was that about?” Zoro asks curiously, wincing as you dab his oozing flesh with more anti-septic, inspecting it carefully before finally reaching for a roll of bandages.

“Met him at the restaurant a few years ago. Went with my family—they were regulars, but they only brought me once in a blue moon.” you reply, biting the inside of your cheeks, deep in focus.

“He make a pass at you?” he asks with a smirk that only grows wider when you giggle mirthfully in return.

“’Course he did, have you met him? He made plenty of moves on my mother too. My brother would always tease her and say Sanji was her little boyfriend.” you say, smiling up at the swordsman; you were already embedding your way under his skin, and making jokes at the dopey lovesick cook’s expense only endeared you to him more.

Zoro throws his head back and laughs, and you end up in a giggling fit, leaving the still eavesdropping Sanji with his jaw agape and feeling like he was in a fever dream, shocked at how quickly you were getting on the stoic swordsman’s good side.

“Stick around me and I’ll keep him out of your hair for you.” he says, ruffling your hair as you tie the last of his bandages. Your grin spreads from ear to ear, cheeks flushed pink, and Sanji swears your eyes are sparkling as they meet Zoro’s—if he wasn’t so jealous, he might swoon at such a display of chemistry.

Instead, he lets the monster in his chest, green as the mosshead’s hair, take over, and bitterly interrupts the sweet moment, informing the two of you that dinner was ready to be plated.

The swordsman nods in acknowledgement and pushes himself up onto his feet; reaching his hand out, he offers you his hand as if you were the one injured, confident grin on his face as you take it and he pulls you up.

“You’re a painter right? Do ya’ draw too?” he asks, walking beside you towards the kitchen, sun nearly sinking behind the horizon.

“I do—I’m better with paints, but it’s a fundamental skill so I practice often.” you reply as you take a seat next to him at the dinner table, giving the rest of your new crewmates a smile and wave.

“That so…I’ve got a few ideas for some cool poses.” he says, getting up to demonstrate one, putting one hand on his hip and holding his other sword up high above his head. The sight is captivating to you, and goofy to the rest of the crew, who start laughing and calling him a dork—Usopp even tosses a dinner roll in his direction, causing Sanji to bark at him and force him to eat it off the floor.

Taking a bite of your mouthwatering baked salmon, the explosion of flavors on your tongue causes a dopey grin erupt on your face; your heart was full and brimming with the happiness and bliss of having new friends, delicious food, and for the first time in a long time, hope of an optimistic future.

Having a new favorite crewmate felt nice too.

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #x reader #i stitched together like 4 wips that i abandoned to finally make this into a cohesive fic hehe

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